The year was 2011.  I, a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed senior at the University of Southern California, walked into one of my last Writing 340 classes of the semester.

“Hi Professor!  I have an idea for my creative project!”

The idea was a blog, and the idea was born in a coffee cup.  I’d been staring into mine the previous night, wondering what my “takeaway project” was going to be once I exited those exposed-brick, hallowed halls.

“I’m going to write about my sister!”

That was about all the clear objective I possessed.  Years of growing up with a sister with autism had shown me I had a lot to say,  and I was going to find out a way to say it all . . . somehow.